Page 95 of The Blood Crown

“Oh, I’ve plenty.”

Ven took a deep drink of his wine, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as Hathos regaled her with tales of adolescent Ven and Karro. None of which surprised her, but all of them making her laugh so hard that tears streamed down her face.

The hearty stew he served them quickly chased away the chill from their short journey, or maybe it was the cardamom and nutmeg he’d put in his wine. Either way, Hathos hadimmediately put her at ease. And he’d damn near stolen her heart when he placed a thick slice of dark brown bread the same shade as his skin in front of her, refilling her mug.

“Are you trying to steal my new bride away from me already?” Ven laughed.

“Please, boy," Hathos rumbled, "I’m too old for such sport now.”

“Boy?” Ven raised his brows, looking at the older male over the rim of his cup. “When I walked in here it wasMy King, have I been deemed unworthy for the job already?”

Hathos’ boom of laughter resonated throughout the small space as he sat back down at the rough table, the chair squeaking in protest as his large frame filled it.

“You’ve finally taken up your mother’s crown,” the male murmured with pride. “It’s good to see you content,” Hathos said softly, his voice rough with emotion as the two males shared a quiet understanding. “You were always restless, always searching for something,” he reflected. “Always trying to prove your place here.”

“It served me well,” Ven replied.

“Aye,” Hathos offered, eyes drifting to where she sat beside Ven, crinkling at the corners with warmth.

Ven lifted his glass in response. “To the ones who hold our hearts.”

With a somber smile, Hathos clinked his cup against it.

It was only then that Aurelia glanced around the small house. Ven had mentioned children . . . but there was no sign of anyone else passing through this space—a bachelor’s quarters. Sparse and tidy. And she wondered what the war had taken from the gruff male across from them.

“Come now, lad. I know you’re not just here to give an old male some company.”

The comfortable smile on Ven's face faltered. “I would not be here disturbing your peace if it was not essential,” Ven said.

“And did I not answer your call when you were Commander?” Hathos hedged.

Ven gave a single nod of his head, crimson eyes studying the male across from him. “You did.”

“Then why would I not also answer the call of my king?” The male replied, proud eyes never straying from Ven’s as he took another sip of wine.

Ven gave a somber smile in return, swirling the wine in his cup. “It’s time to relight the forges at Ravenstone.”

A grin spread slowly across Hathos’s ruggedly handsome face in answer.

They left the warmth of Hathos’ house to his protests.

He’d offered for them to stay the night, but she suspected despite the male’s hospitality that he had not the space nor the blankets to spare them. And if Ven had accepted, he would have all but guaranteed the male slept cold and with an empty belly.

Ven graciously declined, explaining that they had other business to attend to while they were here. But Aurelia didn’t miss the chill that swept over Hathos’ roughly hewn face when Ven mentioned their meeting with the Western Lords.

A rugged manor loomed just ahead of where Ven had cast them. And he hesitated just a heartbeat before lifting his gaze, hard and resolute as he offered an arm to her. "The Lords that rule these lands have claims that predate the split of the kingdoms. When the Blood Folk were little more than warring clans scattered throughout the Shades. They’ve had a strong hold here for millennia. Proud, ancient families—and the most vocal opponents when my mother took the throne.”

“We need their numbers,” she reasoned.

He nodded, his mouth a thin line.

The Western Ridge. The name dredged up the story he’d told her of his mother’s older sister—the female who would have been the rightful heir to the throne before his father had brutally hunted her down at these borders.

That accounted for his sudden change in mood.

“The oldest among them is a greedy male, so I don’t expect to leave here without having to give up something substantial in return,” Ven murmured as they passed the sentries posted at the entrance. Dark tendrils of his magick trailed after them, as if he wanted to keep them close.

“More lands?”

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